First blog post on Writings Of Dean Baker – New writing, excerpts from published books

First non post of my new blog featuring work in progress – along with excerpts from my already published books; designed to encourage book buyers to get to know and enjoy my work more.

Not welcome: tools who simply click, to follow.. to engage others to follow their blogs. Or those saying ‘you’re on my list.’ From experience that list is still growing without any book purchases. Go elsewhere, digital hamsters.

In other words,  supportive readers are encouraged who understand they get what they pay for; not those who equate a twitch of the finger into a ‘click‘ as though this latent Mother Teresa pathology was actual support. I suggest they require payment for their labors in applause and see how well that translates at the next cashier.

Although I know that the greater the number of ‘followers’ the greater reach of the blog, I have never equated popularity with good, or original work. More especially so these days.

The quality of that apparent work deteriorates with the profusion of blogs per day littering the landscape with the confetti of purported poems: cheapening our emotions, degrading our vision, and leading to a widespread disgust with the modern values of the widespread so-called poetry.

Which then appears to be possibly about anything from the fingernail clippings being equated with half moon desolate landscapes of inner turmoil to mild-mannered non-entities sweeping the detritus of their effluvial experiences into forms resembling verse. Chuckleheads.

Of course leading faster and further into an abysmal morass of sludgy philosophy, equally self-indulgent opinions:  an uninformed descent turning the actual and real beauty of literature into the more common representation today of Shiterature.

The work here will be what you don’t see in other blogs, or books; appealing to those who want to read what isn’t said or seen by others in their neuroses to be different by having the same ‘thoughts’ or ‘visions.’

I believe if you’re an actual poet you’re wired into the world and more in ways not possible to be attributed to the act of assuming a position as a poet in the world, however recognized and applauded by others of the same nature.

I want this to be a shared project between us; me writing, and you reading then buying my books: both transformed by real action.

© Dean Baker

My Books In Print

My Poetry Ebooks

Great Review of DARK EARTH

Some reviews of my books

Literary Publications

Those who don’t buy my books have Van Gogh’s ear for music

<- Poetry has been an essential art in history and is in danger of being trivialized into extinction.
Several seminal events in recent literary history are detailed in illustrating how poetry is not merely an adjunct to history and culture but can elucidate, influence and in changing perspective alter those same events and deeds.
Find out more in this treatise more sociologically descriptive than academically oriented.


..from IN RIPARIAN FIELDS.. ‘The Charade Known As Karma’

Before dust, which lightning struck
the gravitational pull of tide,
a sway you did not trust you would deny

Anything your soul betrayed, a
solemn exchange for illusions, the
comfort you realize more has been uniformed

Surrendered now, the whimper smothered
in an idolatry of things
with which you congratulate your bravery

The luck there was no other necessity required
you would use to convince yourself exactly
whose sacrifice has been greater than the day

You and others equally could mislead, which
might manipulate to serve a quest
then proclaimed holy, and a sacred mess

For what you knew in your charade
you have traded for, those
endless inquiries into what it is to be made

Contrived of that thing lost in methods, even
you do not suspect are true
as long as you can continue in a cold certainty

Of the conjured exotic: how heaven
and earth seem unmeasured now,
by either value or the cherished worth described

© Dean Baker


O Gossips, Your Circle of Willis is
clogged with Fecaliths
O You Who Know Better, fastidious
where you drown in that pool
become pets now to underwater creatures

O The Detested who paint your wounds
with Rumi and the Truth
O You Colloquials who assume
in your person the munificence of Karma:
version number to follow –  edited

©Dean Baker


..from SILENCE LOUDER THAN A TRAIN.. ‘Hinterlands’

If I’m alone I know
it must be my moral
leprosy: why otherwise

The old cliché that all
a lover wants is a lover:
mouthing the darkness away.

You would call it neurosis, but
who among the best
of us isn’t sick of something?

There are so few words
I want to use:
for this fearsome beauty of loss

For what is earned, and
what is not:
for all these things I do not choose


©Dean Baker

  • excerpt from SILENCE LOUDER THAN A TRAIN, 102 pages, $18.99 – on sale today for******13.23**** here–> https://www.amazon.com/Silence-Louder-Than-Train-Baker/dp/1494963353
  • my books http://www.amazon.com/Dean-J.-Baker/e/B00IC6PGQM
  • My Ebooks
  • own the book -> “A bold and refreshing approach to modern poetry, one that breaks the rules when necessary and yet conforms when it suits. Highly recommended…


..from DARK EARTH.. ‘Bathurst Yards’

Sprawled in this boxcar apartment,
no one’s serious
the disturbance temporary

The end of the line,
the lock breaks –
the cargo falls out over-ripe

We shall never get there;
blueprints and maps
do not provide an idea of progress

Which does not matter,
stepping from the rails
to meet familiar ground

Watching how the sun I own
goes down through these trees:
our wings, folded like those leaves

©Dean Baker

..from THE POETRY HOTEL.. ‘Chronologically’

Of course there’s no such thing, speaking
chronologically. There’s interruption, the stopped
clock phenomenon where you see differently
than what is actually going on: saccading to
history, for instance.
This would explain all those
instances sweet and good where in a rage they
call for annihilation in order to self-sustain the mechanism
of what only you are allowed to know as true.

The idiocy of fascism, the great crowd determining the realistic.
The martyrs and the saints. But then religion itself
does not claim to envision anything like time foregone.

The event is happening now. Much the same way my cat sits
on my desk studying forever by lamplight, for the
enlightenment: so much for fun and entertainment.

Thus determineth the sacred and the vows. Meow, says
Buddha. Ow, says Christ. Hello, I say to you in celebration
of speech therapy also known as poetry in these ancient days.

©Dean Baker

from Silence Louder Than A Train.. ‘Writing Poetry’








I use the computer and a pen,
I’d be more comfortable with flesh

Yours, specifically
on those certain nights
you cannot sleep

We write the poem together,
then: the words
across your thigh like fingerprints

© Dean Baker

who knows what else you might be missing if you don’t have this book… a review https://kindlebooksbydeanjbaker.wordpress.com/2015/06/01/dean-j-bakers-silence-louder-than-a-train/

from a forthcoming book.. ‘In A 1984 State Of Mind’

the Elora Gorge

Socially, we really are not so much
as in quarantine; segregated by sterile
observances which repeat, becoming
less true
by numbered agreements: enduring
idiocies because we refuse the risks
otherwise, minds stuffed shut by
the lack of quiet

Searching for the bread to keep still,
the circus to entertain, passing as
information at will; no one refusing
to be guided or led by invisible chains,
the madness of requiring
the exact thing
which prevents an ability to stop
look, and listen or

Eventually be absorbed and blinded,
since as violent sheep
we’re first stunned, then settle into
the bloody-mindedness of revenge:
ourselves the weapons borne
slicing rivers loose inside as well,
while outside the world reminisces
about 1984 and Zamyatin’s We to no end


© Dean Baker

My Books In Print

My Poetry Ebooks

Great Review of DARK EARTH

Some reviews of my books

Literary Publications

Those who don’t buy my books have Van Gogh’s ear for music